


The Worst Timing is Pretty Much Your Specialty

by victoriousscarf



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Desolation of Smaug, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 02:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Did you miss the boat too?” Bofur asked, and did not miss the anger and venom on Fili’s face but Bofur wanted to laugh and cry in the face of such a look, instead of cowering like he might have, even mere months before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Worst Timing is Pretty Much Your Specialty

**Author's Note:**

> Here be spoilers.
> 
> I don't even know what I'm doing anymore, happy holidays!

“Did you miss the boat too?” Bofur asked, and did not miss the anger and venom on Fili’s face but Bofur wanted to laugh and cry in the face of such a look, instead of cowering like he might have, even mere months before.

But the company had come a long way, and Fili had slept curled along his side at Beorn’s house, and Bofur knew what the space behind his teeth tasted like now, had before they stepped foot in Mirkwood.

It had been a long few months.

So Bofur helped Fili lift his brother, Oin fussing behind them, only to have every person who had been celebrating them moments before slam the door in their faces until they had to beg Bard—who now hated them, funny how quickly a man could change his mind—to give them a place to stay.

And not once did Fili actually look at him.

Standing behind the counter, Bard heading for the door and leaving his children with the dwarves, Bofur sighed, propping his elbows up on the counter. Fili was near frantic and had eyes only for his brother and Bofur could fault him for none of it.

After all, he had not drunken himself under the table for love of drink—though he had plenty of that—nor fear of the dragon—though he had a fair amount of that too. When he had signed up for this quest, he had realized a dragon was at the end of it and would probably—eventually—have to be faced. But he had not been half in love and much in lust with a golden haired prince with more bravery than wisdom and a sense of loyalty like to get him killed when Bofur had signed his contract.

Now things were different and the thought of facing Smaug and watching Fili burn before him had been enough that he had kept drinking the night before, until he was so late as to miss the boat. As he had run through the streets he had expected anything except Fili left behind with him.

A small part of him wished that Fili had stayed in any part because of him, but he knew that was not true.

Bofur really wanted another drink as he watched Oin and Fili.

They were losing him and Bofur could do nothing, Fili even less. The frustration was written into every line of Fili’s face so when he rose for more water, Bofur caught him by the arm and pulled him around the corner. “I have to—” Fili started in anger and Bofur knocked their foreheads together, holding Fili’s face in both hands.

“Please,” he said and felt a tremor run through Fili’s entire body.

“My brother needs me,” is what Fili said, though he looked at Bofur now.

“You cannot kill yourself along with him,” Bofur said and Fili’s look was challenging, like he just might try it if Kili truly did die. “Please, Fili,” Bofur tried and could feel Fili’s shoulders sag against him. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said, and it was the closest he’d even gotten to admitting anything since Fili’s fingers had slid across his shoulders, laughter in his eyes as Bofur tumbled them both to the ground in frustration and desire.

And Fili noticed because his head did not move but his eyes slide upward. “Alright,” he said finally and it was more than Bofur had expected a minute ago. Even though Fili still looked distracted, muscles tense where Bofur was holding him and already looking back toward the door, Bofur kissed him. He kissed him because he was not sure when he would have the chance again, and because when faced with Fili it was all he could do.

For a long moment Fili remained still and tense before he shoved up slightly, bumping their mouths together and allowing Bofur’s tongue to touch the roof of his mouth before dragging his own along Bofur’s. “I need to see to my brother,” he said after a beat, drawing away with his face averted.

“Tell me what to do,” Bofur said, resting his forehead against Fili’s temple and the prince just nodded, gaze going from focused on Bofur and the moment to distant again and Bofur did not sigh.

When Oin finally mentioned Kingsfoil, Bofur was out of the house like a shot, desperate to move, to do anything except think about the suppressed screams of Kili and Fili’s face as he watched his brother slip away. After all, that had been the very thing he had been so afraid of that he nearly gave up on the entire quest.

When he had been running through the streets of Laketown he had been unable to decide what would be worse—making the boat and seeing Fili die or missing the boat and realizing he had missed the last few moments they might have spent together. It might still have been a successful quest, but something twisted up in his gut and made him doubt it—doubt that they would have lived through it.

For that matter, he thought, snatching the plant from a pig and taking off back the way he had come. They might still die, the mountain rumbled and orcs were on the rooftops, but at least Fili was still here and there were still together.

They even survived a wave of orcs, and Bofur wondered how desperate Fili was for his weapons. When he took Fili’s hand afterwards, watching Kili and the elf talk quietly, Fili was shaking and Bofur realized that the prince had probably never been so vulnerable before—without his hoard, without his uncle or family, with only a sick and injured brother, a healer and an old miner to keep him safe.

And then the mountain growled and rumbled and exploded in red fire and Bofur knew there was a dragon coming toward them and held Fili’s hand tighter.

It was likely the best that could have happened for even though he had missed the boat, Fili had still been there. He looked at Fili, who looked out the window toward the mountain, with a sinking feeling in his stomach as he thought he could hear Smaug roar all the way from Erebor.

Bofur was unsure when he had ever been more terrified, both of his own thoughts and the threat of a dragon sweeping toward the exposed town. Bombur had once told him he had the worst timing. He had laughed it off, swinging his flute toward his brother and ignoring the way he looked oddly serious.

The last time to realize something was more than lust was when a dragon was on his way and they stood with no weapons and only a single black arrow left in the entire town.

“I have the worst timing,” he said under his breath, a belated agreement with his brother.

He wasn’t even sure Fili heard him.


End file.
